


Stretching The Truth

by orphan_account



Series: Mythomania [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Basically every chapter will have one of Toris's memories, Companion Piece, Dating, Friendship Problems, Hurt/Comfort, I put the warnings there just to be safe, M/M, Memories, Probably less heavy than White Lies, Talks a little about rape/non-con and violence, a little ooc, probably some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 06:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15701289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Toris is so used to worrying about Iszabella that he bottles everything up until he suddenly explodes, and finds comfort in his unlikely new friend: a childish bartender named Alfred Jones who just wants to be a hero for as many people as possible.Companion fic to White Lies, you should probably read it first before reading this.





	Stretching The Truth

The house was too empty. Every time Toris walked into the living room, he expected to see Iszabella on the couch, watching some trashy TV show. When he was working, he found that he missed having her interrupt him to show him some dress she liked or something a celebrity had posted. It was boring without her talking to him, even though she often did so when he was busy.

 

Knowing she was mad at him made things even worse. He kept telling himself he’d done the right thing, and he knew she needed help, but some selfish part of him wished he hadn’t forced her to stay at the hospital.

 

If there was one thing Toris needed, it was company. He was depressing himself, sitting at home and looking through the pictures he had of Iszabella. For a moment, he thought about calling one of his younger brothers, but he knew they were probably both busy with school. He didn’t know for sure, but it seemed to be around the time of the year when they would have finals. 

 

There was a bar nearby, which he only knew the location of because it was on the way to the library, and on a whim he decided to go there. Toris wasn’t much of a drinker, and he rarely went out to places like that. There were sure to be people there, though, and that was what he needed.

 

There wasn’t any reason for him to dress up any more than he usually would, so Toris put on a hoodie over his t-shirt and tied his hair back into a ponytail because he wasn’t going to take the time to brush it out. He got in the car and forced himself to ignore the things that reminded him of Iszabella as he backed out of the driveway. That was difficult to do, though, because in his mind, she was everywhere. He saw her in the potted plants she’d arranged on the porch so they all got just the right amount of sun. He saw her in the crack on one of the side mirrors that had come from her accidentally backing into the trash can. He saw her in the heart-shaped air freshener she’d hung above the dashboard. 

 

This was just more proof that he needed to get away. His stomach was twisting with every reminder and he knew he’d start to feel nauseous if he didn’t find something else to focus on.

 

It seemed like all Toris was doing these days was trying to distract himself. 

 

When he arrived at the bar, he immediately got the feeling that he didn’t belong there. From the outside he could hear loud cheering, and as soon as he entered, he noticed that nearly everyone there was crowded around a TV watching a basketball game. If this had been any other time he would have joined in, since that was his favorite sport, but Iszabella wasn’t there to complain about how boring sports were, so he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

 

“What can I get you?” Toris looked up and realized he was standing in front of the bar. It had been immediately inside the doors, probably strategically located so people would buy alcohol the minute they came in. He wasn’t in the mood to drink, but he’d come all the way here, and at least he’d be doing it socially. He sat on a barstool and looked up at the man behind the counter. He looked fresh out of college, with bright eyes and a matching white smile.

 

“I don’t care,” he replied. Whatever he ended up drinking probably wouldn’t settle the churning in his stomach. He hated being nauseous, because it had turned from a side effect of sadness to another thing that reminded him of Iszabella. 

 

“How about… whiskey on the rocks? That’s my favorite drink,”

 

“Fine,” Toris shrugged and took out his phone. It was too silent without texts from Iszabella, and he was reminded of where her phone sat, collecting dust on her dresser. His phone went back in his pocket and he pressed it into the pilled fabric, as though that would make it and the memories of Iszabella disappear.

 

When the drink was placed in front of him, Toris didn’t bother picking it up or drinking it. He didn’t even look at it, just taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the bartender his credit card. This was a luxury he couldn’t really afford. Every day, more and more medical bills piled up. He’d heard of people being forced to leave psychiatric hospitals even when they still needed to be there because their funds ran dry. Another thing he was terrified of was that happening to Iszabella. 

 

“You don’t look like you’re doin’ good,”

 

Toris sighed and looked up at the bartender. He knew he didn’t look like he was doing well. Stress and lack of sleep had begun to show in the purple-blue bags under his eyes, his hair was tangled and oily, and he’d started biting his nails again. 

 

“Seriously, are you okay?”

 

“No,” Toris had thought it would feel good to admit that, but he just started feeling worse. He wasn’t okay, he didn’t think he’d ever be okay again because Iszabella had been angry at him and he was convinced that he’d destroyed their relationship.

 

“If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. I mean, my job is to listen to people’s problems,” the bartender gave a short laugh and suddenly hopped up so he was sitting on the counter. He sat down so close to Toris’s drink that it tipped over slightly and nearly spilled.

 

“It’s a lot. I wouldn’t want to burden you with my problems. And besides, I don’t even know your name. How am I supposed to talk to you about all this?”

 

“Oh, yeah, we never did have any proper introductions! I’m Alfred,” he stuck out his hand, but the angle was awkward because he was sitting on the counter next to Toris, so he didn’t accept the handshake.

 

“I’m Toris,”

 

“Sounds foreign,”

 

“My family’s Lithuanian. I was born in Poland, though, and lived there until I was eighteen,”

 

“Why’d you move?”

 

“College, mostly,” and the inkling of instinct that had told him maybe Iszabella was here, that maybe she’d run away to the United States for some reason.

 

Alfred could tell that Toris was still tense. His shoulders were stiff and he hadn’t touched his whiskey. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d done it enough that he could be fired for doing it once more, he would have said the drink was on him and given the man’s money back.

 

“Look, my shift is over in twenty minutes. When I’m done, do you want to just go somewhere more private and talk? You look like you need someone,” Alfred knew that was probably overstepping every one of this man’s boundaries, but he looked awful and like he needed some company.

 

Toris took a moment to think over the offer. The bartender seemed genuine, and it was so tempting to accept, but he was reminded of Iszabella again, of what had happened to her when she’d gone somewhere with a guy she’d never met before. 

 

“Alright,”

 

He mentally slapped himself for saying that. It was like his mouth had gone off on its own and moved without his permission. For all he knew, he could have just said yes to some twisted serial killer.

 

Looking for something to do, he picked up the glass of whiskey in front of him and took a small sip. It was bitter and strong and he knew he should  _ not  _ be drinking because that would alter his state of mind and make it harder to fight off any potential attacker, even though he had a purple belt in jiu jitsu. 

 

Or maybe he was just being overly paranoid. He had been ever since finding out what had happened to Iszabella.

 

Twenty minutes passed excruciatingly slowly. Alfred hopped off the bar and went back to cleaning glasses and mixing the occasional drink, passing by Toris and saying something positive to him every once in awhile. Meanwhile, Toris forced himself not to get lost in his thoughts. He tried to get invested in the basketball game, tried to smile at the bartender’s kind words, tried to finish the glass of whiskey before the ice in it melted, but he just couldn’t.

 

“You’re not gonna finish that, are you?” Toris looked up to see that Alfred had taken his apron off and had a pair of sunglasses on his head and car keys in his hand. As soon as Toris shook his head, he grabbed the glass and downed the alcohol in a few quick gulps. He then hopped over the bar in a manner quite similar to how he’d jumped up to sit on the counter, and landed at Toris’s side.

 

He stood up and followed him, not completely listening to him talk but also not ignoring him. Alfred walked out of the bar, to the parking lot. “There’s a park a few blocks away, wanna walk there?” he looked over at Toris, who didn’t seem to be completely paying attention. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” he took out his ponytail and retied it, just for something to do with his hands. 

 

They walked without talking to each other, but there wasn’t silence. Alfred was whistling quietly and even though it got on Toris’s nerves a little, it got on them in a good way. Noise distracted him from his thoughts, and there was so much that he wanted to avoid thinking about. 

 

When they got to the park, Alfred started off towards the playground, which was completely empty. At first he just walked, but then he broke off into a run, leaving a trail of footprints stomped into the grass. Something about watching an adult act so childishly brought a smile to Toris’s face and before he knew it, he was dashing after him. The wind was cool on his skin and his chest hurt with the effort of keeping up with Alfred, whose long legs gave him an advantage when it came to how much distance he could cover at a time. 

 

They stopped at the swingset, neither noticing or caring who got there first. 

 

“So, still need someone to talk to?”

 

“Yes, once I catch my breath,” Toris leaned against the pole of the swingset and watched Alfred hop onto one of the swings. 

 

_ Iszabella kicked at the ground, just letting the swing bob gently back and forth as she did so. When she spoke, it was quiet, so that no one else at the park would hear. “I was thinking of like, maybe going to Spain. It’s one of the best places to be trans, and you can change your gender on documents without surgery, so I wouldn’t have to wait,” _

 

_ “You’d have to become a citizen first,” _

 

_ “So? It’s still easier than it would be here,” _

 

_ Toris looked over at her, frowning. There was a certain sadness in her eyes, one that he’d gotten used to seeing since she’d first come out to him a few months earlier.  _

 

_ “And you’d have to wait until you finish school,” _

 

_ “Not if I run away,” _

 

_ “You’re not…” Toris frowned, wondering if she really was serious. Sometimes Iszabella would just get these ideas that she was going to do something, and nothing would stop her from having it her way.  _

 

_ She laughed and shook her head, but that didn’t completely ease the fear settling into Toris’s mind.  _

 

Toris took a moment to think before sitting on the swing next to Alfred, gently twisting the swing from side to side just so he had something to do. He wasn’t the same as Iszabella when it came to talking about things, because it took a lot of coaxing to get her to speak, and even then she only gave information when prompted. Instead, he just had a hard time figuring out how to put things, especially because he was about to talk about someone else, and he didn’t want to tell Alfred certain things that he knew she’d be mad if he went around talking about.

 

“I have this one friend, I’ve known her since we were kids, and uh… she’s just been through a lot. She’s transgender, and she can’t have the surgeries she wants because they’re so expensive, and she went through four years of something really traumatic, and after it happened, she just wasn’t the same person. I moved in with her and after a while I started to notice she wasn’t eating as much as she should be, and then I figured out she was skipping meals and trying to hide things from me. I didn’t know what to do, so I just confronted her and I guess I was angry because I yelled at her and after that, she got even more secretive,”

 

The guilt wasn’t anywhere close to going away. In fact, it was getting worse, almost consuming Toris’s every thought. He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from losing his temper and try to talk things out, because then he wouldn’t be where he was now and Iszabella would have never gotten hurt in the first place.

 

“I guess I put things at the back of my mind and tried to pretend she was better than she was, and when I finally realized how bad it was, she was just skin and bones and she started passing out and one day I tried to talk to her because I figured out she made herself throw up and she ran away to hide from me and passed out on the staircase and broke her arm. I still can’t believe I let that happen, and she ended up in the hospital and it was my fault. The doctors are really worried about her heart and her bones and what she’s doing to herself, and as soon as they feel like she’s stable, they want to move her to the psychiatric ward. She kept telling me that she was fine and that she didn’t want to stay, and I told her she needed to do it, so they’re making her stay. I mean, she can technically leave if she wants to, but she has to put in a request to the doctors and if they think she needs to stay, they can get a court order. I don’t want it to come to that, though,”

 

He sighed and played with a bit of rubber that was peeling off the swing’s chain, looking past it for a moment at Alfred. He hadn’t wanted to burden someone so young and carefree with his troubles, but he just seemed to be thinking, a small frown on his lips.

 

“I’m under a lot of stress now because of this. The kind of care she needs costs a lot, and insurance will only cover so much. I miss her at home and I just feel so guilty,” Toris ran a hand through his hair, feeling the tangles snag against his fingers.

 

“That’s a lot to deal with,” Alfred finally spoke up, turning his head so he was making eye contact with Toris.

 

“Yeah, I know,”

 

“You look like you need someone right now. Here, I’ll give you my number. You can text me if you need anything, alright?”

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

 

“Because I want to be someone’s hero and make things better for them, and you look like you could use a hero right now,” Alfred reached into his pocket and took out his phone, turning it on and handing it to Toris so he could add himself as a contact. After a few moments, Toris did the same. He didn’t actually plan on texting him since he didn’t want to bother him, but it was nice to know he at least had someone. Yes, he had his brothers, but they were busy at school and he didn’t want them to be worrying about him when they should be worrying about passing their classes.

 

“I should probably get going, since I’ve got some stuff to do at home, but I’m completely serious. If you need anything. Anything at all. If you’re lonely, if you’re having trouble with money, if you just need someone to talk to, text me,” Alfred smiled, staying still for a moment until Toris nodded to show he understood, before getting up off the swing, saying goodbye, and walking off in the other direction.

 

Toris waited until he couldn’t see the other man anymore, before taking out his phone and glancing at the new number in his contact list. Even if he wasn’t going to actually text him, he felt a lot better than he had before. He’d been right to go to the bar.


End file.
